ACT ONE. THE WORLD AS HIS MIRROR. 

________________________________________________

❝I WANTED TO DESTROY THE PERCEPTION IN MY MIND THAT I WAS INSANE.

THAT ISN'T REALLY TRUE.

I SIMPLY SEE THINGS IN A PARALLEL, IF SOMEONE STEALS FROM AN ALREADY HOMELESS MAN, THEN WHAT ABOUT THE YOUNG MAN ON THE STEEET OVER HELPING THE ELDERLY WOMAN CROSS? DOES THAT GOOD OUTWEIGH A MOMENTARY LAPSE IN JUDGEMENT THAT MADE THE THIEF STEAL? OR WAS IT EVEN A LAPSE OF JUDGEMENT IN THE THIEF'S CASE?

I TOO AM APART OF THIS BIGGER PICTURE, AND I WANTED TO UNDERSTAND ME BETTER. AND IN DOING SO, I REALIZED I NEEDED TO UNDERSTAND THE WORLD ENCASING ME.

I MADE PARALLELS OUT OF EVERYTHING, THE GOOD, THE EVIL, THE UNFORTUNATE, THE BLESSED.

TO ME, THE WORLD WAS A MIR R OR.

TOO BAD I DIDN'T REALIZE IT WAS TILTED AT THE EDGE, AND THERE WERE CRACKS THAT I HADN'T NOTICED BEFORE.

AND THE MIRROR ...

WELL ...

IT WAS BROKEN.❞

 

 

 

 

1991 | s, sk 
_________________________

he can paint landscapes with eyes closed, and destroy it all with one word. who is he?

_________________________

 

 

 

 

 

"do you think of the world as some sort of sketchbook ... or perhaps, a canvas of some sort? like it's yours for the molding?"

alan park adjusts his glasses, pushing his thick brown framed specs further up his nose as he levels the man before him with a patient look. upon moving from new zealand, back to his homeland of south korea, he's been the discharge psychologist in songyang prison for almost ten years. here, he's given patients there evaluations up until the the day before their release. it was a precaution to make sure that they were really ready to return to society, to the real world, the one outside the same four, dull walls they'd been staring at ever since their face day of imprisonment. and in all of his ten years, alan is quite sure he's never seen a man quite like the one before him. alan tries to keep his face neutral as he glances at his chart once more, just to make sure he hasn't missed anything.


 

kim taehyung

birthplace unknown

hometown seoul metro

dob ??/??/1972

offense ?


 

alan can't help the slight twitching of his lip, the beginning signs of a frown as he rereads the man's hometown. seoul metro? that couldn't be right. and he wants so badly to ask the man before him about it, but he's not sure if it's a trigger or not. so far, he seemed to be able to keep the prisoner calm and reasonable, and he didn't want to change that.

"isn't it?" the psychologist hears finally, making him look over curiously.

nineteen year old kim taehyung is smiling, despite the bags under his eyes and the gaunt look to his face. his dark hair still looks so healthy, despite how cheap the prison shampoo was, gracing the boy's smooth, pale neck in the beginning signs of a mullet. the dull, navy blue prison uniform hangs off the boy's thin body, bony fingers intertwined as he sits there with a certain sense of sophistication that alan has never seen from a prisoner before.

"the world is only as we perceive it." taehyung says, dark eyes glistening from the reflection of the television in his iris, "say someone became a millionaire overnight, they could either see it with immense happiness that now they didn't have to carry the financial burden of life, or they could immediately grow paranoid at the target now placed on their backs. it's either a blessing, or a curse, and it's all a matter of how you see it. and this perception that we have, it reflects us, and who we are as people."

alan tilts his head then, wondering how a boy of only nineteen could have such an intelligent outlook on life.

"what do you mean?" he asks, eager at the possibility of delving even deeper into the boy's mind.

"well, a financially inclined person would invest their newfound wealth, a charitable person would donate it, a selfish person would keep their status to themselves." taehyung says, deep voice sending a sense of calmness through the dim office, "who you are determines what you do. our actions reveal our true selves to us everyday, all we have to do is pay attention."

and alan kind of wants to laugh, because at times he felt more like the prisoner and the patient than the nineteen year old across from him. but then, he watches as taehyung scrapes a spoonful of rice from the small instant rice bowl, and shoves it in his mouth, small grains left over by his mouth as he chews with wide, youthful eyes that make alan sigh because he remembers then that taehyung is still just that, a boy.

"is it good?" alan asks, laughing when taehyung shakes his head no, despite scraping up another spoonful of rice.

alan had to agree, the instant rice was unauthentic, cheap, and bland. but his cousin from america kept sending him them as if he was still the same struggling college student. alan had his p.h.d now, he's far from struggling. but he didn't want to hurt his cousins feelings, so he simply stored every box full of small bowls of instant rice she sent in his office. now, he has nearly a mountain of instant rice in his office. but ever since taehyung started the outpatient process, he'd been microwaving the bowls for the boy each time he saw him.

when alan first saw taehyung, he had been a bit afraid. the boy had been so thin, his cheek bones were almost sunken in and his wrists were so small, the cuffs slipped right off whenever the guards would try to restrain the boy. alan felt bad, but also very curious. it drove him to digging around and investigating the prison guards and prison staff. are you guys feeding him? alan would ask every single one of them, only to find out that it was taehyung himself who refused to eat anything the kitchen staff made. apparently the boy refused to eat anything that wasn't microwaved, for some odd reason.

"taehyung-" alan says suddenly, making the boy hum in response with the spoonful of rice shoved in his mouth, "the prison guards told me you wouldn't eat anything unless it had been microwaved first. why is that? microwaved food isn't very good for you. it's unhealthy, you can't survive on it very well. you said your bones hurt when you wake up in the morning and that's probably why. you're making yourself suffer by not eating properly."

"oh, but haven't you heard?" is taehyung's reply with a grin that reminds alan of just how young the boy really is, "there's this saying in buddhism: life is dukkha, life is suffering. and so, it's okay to suffer, because the first step towards your liberation is admitting that you're suffering ..... the only way to overcome your pain is to admit it."

alan clears his throat, swallowing nervously as he follows taehyung's line of sight. he isn't grinning at alan, but rather, the portrait on the man's desk. it was of him and another psychologist, dr. song, the two smiling brightly as they stand beside each other.

"now, i have a question for you dr. park." the teenager says suddenly, setting the now empty bowl of race on the table separating them, before he leans back with a composed look.

"sure, ask away." alan tells him with an encouraging smile, though he doesn't think he's going to like the question. still, he doesn't want to upset his patient, so he smiles and waits.

"you're a homoual, aren't you?"

alan park has never frozen up at anything a patient has ever said before, but he can't help the way his words die down in his throat in that moment. it was true, alan was gay and married to a man, another psychologist who worked at the same prison. but no one knew that. of course, being a homoual man was taboo in their country, so it wasn't like he could go around telling everyone freely. he already got enough discrimination for his asian-american identity, he didn't want to add to it. at times like this, he wished he lived with his cousins in america, or that he had stayed in new zealand. but seoul was his home now, and he couldn't change that. just like all the other things he couldn't change about himself, including that.

"there's nothing wrong with it, you know." taehyung speaks up, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he stares at the older man, "when that other doctor, dr. song, comes in here, your eyes just light up. it's like he's something precious to you, and i know that look. i know it so well... too well, even."

alan finds himself smiling then, at how taehyung hadn't judged him or threw some homophobic slurs at him like how others did when they found out. but then, he takes in the almost sad tint to the boy's smile at the mention of someone precious, and he can't help but grow curious, something taehyung made him feel often.

"do you have someone precious to you as well, taehyung?" the psychologist asks, pen and clipboard in his lap completely forgotten as he finds himself smiling curiously.

but taehyung is no longer focused on him. instead, his eyes are trained on the small television hanging on the wall in the other corner of the room. the neon lighting on the screen bathes taehyung's skin in bright pink and red hues as he watches the broadcast.

"-south korea's hottest, alternative rock band, go! run! fighting! has just announced it's latest asia tour, starting tonight, here in tokyo, japan, then making its way to osaka, and then back to seoul! here, we can see the band's latest interview, where lead singer, jeon jungkook, talks about the influence for their latest album."

alan watches as the screen flashes before a boy that appears to be around taehyung's age appears. he's sitting with three other men, who appear to be a bit older than him. they all have spiky black hair and gaunt, serious faces. but the boy's face is soft, though his damp hair is falling into his face in a slightly spiky manner as well. but his voice is the most soothing thing about him.

"-we've been listening to a lot of music from the states, like nirvana, and we really like it. but a lot of what i wrote was about what i saw. i know it sounds very dark, but sometimes when i look at people, it looks like they've been holding a lot in. so the music is meant to help them get it out. that's why there's so much screaming at the concerts. the people are angry and the need an outlet. i want this album to be that outlet for them." the lead singer explains into the mic, jeon jungkook, lead singer, flashing across the screen briefly.

the interviewer nods, prepared to ask her next question when one of the band members from behind jungkook snatches the mic from him suddenly.

"yeah, there's a lot of unrest due to those ing machina on the streets, watching us like dogs-" the man shouts as both his band members and security rush at him, attempting to grab the mic back, ryuu, band drummer, flashes, beside the red haired man, indicating his name. jungkook is the only one who doesn't attack ryuu. instead, he watches in confusion and concern as both the band and security tackle the man, wrestling the mic from his grasp, the mic itself making screeching noises as the men fight for it.

the video clip then cuts off and shows a frame of a row of screaming fans standing outside of a venue then with a reporter smiling widely as she waits for her cue.

"unfortunately, we had to cut our interview short, but make sure you catch go! run! fighting on tour this year, coming to a city near you!"

alan shakes his head, wondering how someone could be so bold as to speak against the machina, that was basically speaking against the government, and of course that wasn't allowed. he saw that band heading no where fast.

"seoul metro station-" taehyung says suddenly, making alan glance over at him curiously. the boy is staring straight ahead now with a somber look, "i spent eight months of my life in my mother's stomach, i spent my first five in life at a hospital, but the next forty eight i spent confided in metal walls."

and alan should be writing this, he should've been writing everything taehyung has said since he sat down. but for some odd reason, he doesn't want to. he doesn't want to miss anything, and he thinks that if he even so much as misses a small detail, he'll lose his mind.

"when i was born, my mother took me and ran away from the hospital. she went to seoul metro station and placed me in an abandoned locker. she left me there, and never looked back." taehyung admits quietly, voice devoid of its usual life, "and i should have been alone, but i wasn't. because in the next locker over was another small baby, a boy who's name i'll never forget. he was my mother's best friend's son. they had ran away from the hospital with their babies together, two sixteen year old girls who didn't know any better. they put us in those lockers, and we never saw them since. we got a nickname from that, me and that boy. the coin locker babies - the ones who shouldn't have made it, but did."

taehyung's eyes are glued to the television once more, where they're showing small clips of the go!run! fighting! lead singer, jungkook, again. alan takes note of how he's smiling in every single one of them, and he wonders if there's ever any true, genuine happiness in any of them.

"what are you going to do when you get out of here?" alan asks taehyung finally, because he can hear the footsteps of the guards approaching, signaling their time was up. he watches as a small smile pulls at taehyung's lips then.

"i'm going to find him." is all taehyung can say before the guards come bursting in, shouting and rushing forward as if he's created some great offense. alan feels his heart rate spike from pure nerves as the guards slap cuffs on taehyung's thin wrists before hauling the boy up roughly like he's just committed some great murder.

they push him along then, out of the room, but that doesn't stop taehyung from looking back and giving alan park one last smile, the last one he'll see for good actually. in the midst of the rain outside, thunder strikes loudly, making the psychologist jump, knocking his coffee cup from the table in the process. the glass shatters in the same moment that the door slams behind the guards and taehyung.

alan sighs at the unnerving silence that follows. he reaches down and picks up two pieces of coffee soaked glass before giving up, slouching back in his chair and running a shaky hand over his face.

and he hoped that letting kim taehyung back out into the world would be a good thing.

though, deep within him, alan felt that in doing so, he had unleashed on the world, nothing but pure chaos.